


It's Nothing to a Cat

by HonkingHarts



Series: The Runaway Cat [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Oneshot, cat witcher, mid becoming a witcher, trial of the grasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 08:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16552589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonkingHarts/pseuds/HonkingHarts
Summary: "His body ached and felt like he had been crushed by a Leshens thorny weeds while a Cockatrice poisoned his insides. But of course, it wasn’t going to be over any time soon. Once the Trial of the Grasses were done, he would start the Trial of the Dreams."Percy is half way through the first bout of mutations, but he just wants to go home.





	It's Nothing to a Cat

Thunder boomed from outside the dark and damp room he sat cramped up in the corner. He hated everything about this place. It was cold, everything hurt and he had the others just itching to claw him to pieces with nothing but their bare hands. He was “new,” and all “new” things were to be played with. So he stayed in his room when he could. They couldn’t get him here. Or they just simply wouldn't, or maybe it was just part of their game. Hell if he knew. He definitely didn’t want to find out.

 

“Perrrcivaal,” their voices would purr fiendishly from under the door and he made himself smaller. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be at home, on the farm with his mother and father and his sister Loren but… his father had sold him to these  _ monsters _ . And for that, he could never forgive him even if he wanted to.

 

He still remembered the farm, the horses he loved so dearly, Agata the stray cat he secretly kept in the barn and his mother’s cooking. He loved going to the markets with his mother. He loved racing the horses with Loren. The boy at the market... Everything. He loved everything about the farm. But it was all gone now. The only thing he had to remind him of home was his mother's bracelet.  _ Remember me, my son,  _ she had said as she caressed his cheek tearfully. It was the only thing she had said to him that day. He missed her. But would she accept who he is to become? He didn’t know. He hoped she would still love him like she did before… before he became this.

 

“Perrrrcy,” they called to him gently, but he knew that no matter how soft and gentle the voices were, they were the voices of predators. Bloody thirsty and vile. To him they were no different than the monsters they were trained to kill. 

 

“For fuck sake, leave my ‘pussy cat’ alone,” a stern voice he recognised as Blythe, one of the older witchers. She had been here a long time and was the one to usually come and ‘rescue’ him. She was just as psychotic as the others but she had a ‘soft spot’ for him, meaning in her mind he was hers. Her pet. Her ‘pussy cat’. She was the pan, while his feral peers were the fire. 

 

His body ached and felt like he had been crushed by a Leshens thorny weeds while a Cockatrice poisoned his insides. But of course, it wasn’t going to be over any time soon. Once the Trial of the Grasses were done, he would start the Trial of the Dreams. Then it’ll be even more of the awful, awful,  _ awful _ pain, vomiting and hallucinations. Every time he had to consume more potions -which might as well be troll shit for what they taste like- he honestly thought, no prayed, he was going to die like the others. 

 

“Pain is temporary” he whispered to himself and closed his eyes. It was a mantra he repeated to himself everyday as if it were some sort of incantation of peace. He deeply wished it was.

 

It was a wonder he’s survived with even half his sanity so far, what with the absolute torture of his mutations, his insane and psychopathic peers and Blythe’s sadistic “love”. 

 

But of course, it’s nothing to a Cat.

 

At least it shouldn’t be.


End file.
